NonRomeos and Juliets
by Kay20
Summary: Sorry for the long wait, chapters 5 and 6 uploaded. I just wanted to let these characters "just be" and it took awhile to get into that headspace! Enjoy, and have fun during the season premiere this week!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

She was killing him.

Torture.

And yet, perversely, he wanted it. He wondered if he should take that as a bad sign. But regardless of his own proclivities, if she was vacillating and being indecisive (like usual) then it meant he was in the running.

Their relationship was like those chicken curry sandwiches on deli rolls that he made. Surprising. Testy. Flavorful. And dare he say it, kinda sexy. But still, the sandwich had good old chicken – loyal to a fault.

He looked around at the folks milling about near the airport gate. What was it about airports that made it look like people were lemmings? The men in business suits just kinda ran together. Some of them made Mark and Amanda look deep. The tourist families were incredibly annoying and loud. (The gate really wasn't going to change five frigging photos later!) Although he had to expect it. He didn't think Italians had quiet in their vocabulary. His family dinners always operated at an eight on a scale of one to ten.

He fleetingly wondered if he was turning into an old fart.

It would have been nice if Betty was here – then maybe the Starbucks sign he had been staring at for the better part of an hour would have been something more interesting than a Starbucks sign. (Although he wondered if they had ever misprinted that mermaid without her tail. That would be interesting.) Betty would have made being at the airport fun – maybe played a travel game or two (definitely travel scrabble), or made him sit through pages and pages of travel books and plans, or just talked about what they were going to eat. And eat. And eat. He would have made a crack about sun-dried tomatoes.

For him it would have been his first trip out of the United States. For her, her first to Europe. She had at least been to Mexico. He had yet to make it out of the tri-state area.

Damn Henry.

Gio had to admit that it had been impulsive of him to ask Betty to join him in the first place. He hadn't expected a yes. She was so cautious. He had expected to just give her a signal. Hey, I'm interested. Please note this, look how romantic I am. Instead hope sprang eternal when she said yes, and was promptly extinguished when Henry showed up on the scene.

And yet, she had said yes. And she seemed to be blushing and flustered an awful lot lately…

He was still looking forward to his trip – it would help him decide what his five-year plan was going to look (or taste) like. He just couldn't decide what to do when he got back. What exactly were they? Friends? Non-friends? And what did he want them to be? Did he want to deal with the drama?

The fact that he was moping probably should give him a clue – right?

He ran his hands over his head, recalling the phone call he and Betty had the night after the ballgame.

"Hey Gio – it's Betty. Um…well you see…I wanted to call to talk about Rome. And…things." She sounded hesitant, yet not. She sounded like someone who had made up her mind, but was afraid to have this conversation. He sighed. She was probably manhandling her glasses right now in sheer terror.

"You should have told me about Henry being back." He said flatly. "I didn't appreciate finding out like that. I thought you and I were closer than that." Or maybe he had read too much into their friendship lately – the excited phone calls, the visits to the deli, the happy expressions that had finally come around again. The expressions he thought he helped cause.

"I'm sorry, you're right. It's just… I wasn't ready. It was too early. I was so surprised. I was swept up in the whole not being safe thing." She paused. "God, why is it I can be a writer yet when it comes to conversations I feel like a Sherpa in the desert?"

"A Sherpa? That's what you came up with just now?"

"Shut up, you know what I mean. Yes, I should have told you about Henry. But I just seemed to run out of time. Claire was right – I need to be risky. But I need to be risky on my own for now."

"What? Tricky? I must have bad reception." He mock pressed buttons on his phone and smiled, knowing she'd get exasperated at his teasing.

"Risky! Risky! Get your mind out of the gutter!" She laughed, and he almost thought he could hear her relax into the conversation. "Anywaaaayyyyy, I think Claire was right." There was a long pause and he finally realized that she was waiting for him to respond.

"Betty, it's not like I was asking you to spend the next 100 years with me. I get it. You just needed to tell me what the hell you were doing, and that was it. But instead, it was like I suddenly had the plague. You can't go to Rome, then you can't go."

"But you're disappointed."

"Of course I'm disappointed. What else do you expect me to be? But you gotta be you. And that's what I like about you. Well, you." Yeah Gio, that was eloquent.

A small, "okay" followed his last statement.

"Okay then. Face your fears, Suarez."

"You've told me not to be a chicken."

"Damn straight."

"Have you faced your fears?"

He thought about telling her how he was afraid that Nella would make his same mistakes. Or how he was afraid his five-year plan would get him nowhere and that he'd be the owner of one deli and one deli alone. Or about how he couldn't come up with new 'wiches ideas from time to time. Or that her kiss had been different than any other woman he'd kissed before, and that he hadn't been this dimwitted around a girl since high school and the appearance of hormones.

He cleared his throat. "I do the best I can. It's a growing process, right?"

"Damn straight."

"Look at you with the swearing! I'm such a bad influence on you."

"Uh, yeah. I managed to deal with perfume drugs, backstage shenanigans, stalker girlfriends and needy bosses all on my own thank you very much."

Gio laughed. "Huh – you know, I think you've been a bad influence on _my_ life now that you put it that way!"

"I gotta go, Gio."

He didn't want her to go, he wanted to listen to her voice on the line, cradle it, take it to Italy with him, and see how low it could go under…duress.

"Betty?" He had to ask.

"Yeah Gio?"

"What did you decide to do about Henry?" He winced. Did that sound as pathetic as he thought it sounded? When did he become such a wuss? Seriously. His uncles would disown his Italian ass. Although now that he thought about it most of his uncles were pretty much pussy-whipped anyway. Did men just go through stages of denial in relationships?

"He's going home to Tucson. By himself. I'm just not ready."

He wanted to ask if there was a "for now" at the end of that statement. He wanted to ask what that meant for them. But he decided to let it go. For her sanity, and for his. He couldn't go to Rome thinking constantly about this woman, or he'd never get any work done.

"So much of this past year has been about somebody else. My dad, Hilda, Henry, Justin…you."

He did a mental dance that he had occupied some of her mental space.

"Huh…most of this year has been about discovering me. My five year plan, you, my sandwiches, owning my own business, you."

"I noticed I was in there twice."

"No comment."

"I gotta go."

"So go."

They both paused on the phone, neither one wanting to lose the connection that seemed so fragile at this moment in time.

"Where are you going anyway?" He succumbed and asked.

"I'll tell you when I get back." Betty said.

That was what he needed to hear.

"Damn straight."

And with that, he hung up.

So now he just plain 'ol missed her. But he thought of the stories he could tell her - she deserved stories. And the history he could relate. And the requisite photo slide show. In a perverse way, he wanted to enjoy the trip…for her.

That was the trick. This trip was like…a Betty information gathering session. He could build a treasure trove of little moments to share. Moments he knew would leave her with baited breath. He hated to brag (well, not really), but he knew he was a great storyteller. His family made him tell stories every Thanksgiving round the table. It was a pain in the ass coming up with stories (last year he basically told stories about Mode – at the time wondering why it was on his mind so much), but he got by.

As he gathered his things to board the plane, Giovanni Rossi thought: yeah, I have my five-year plan.

And a certain Suarez is in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Betty stood in front of Gio's deli, wondering why the pickle suddenly looked more demonic today.

It could do with the fact that she hadn't seen Gio in a month.

It could do with the fact that she had a total of five hours sleep last night.

Or it could do with the fact that she had a naughty dream about Gio last night. Hence the five hours sleep.

It may have been the proximity of the store, but she could swear she could smell him. Unlike what Amanda thought, he didn't smell like salami. More like a combination of sweat, cologne, and spices. With a little fruity flavor thrown in to surprise. The anticipation of seeing him was causing her heart to hammer. So much had happened since she was last here. So much had changed.

But then again so much hadn't – she was still trying to figure out how she felt about this man. He exasperated her on so many levels. He pissed her off, he made her do things she didn't want to do, but she ended up thankful in the end. Jerk. She smiled. She was excited to speak with him about her trip, excited to see how he had fared, and well…just plain excited.

That dream you see. She hadn't had one of the pulse pounding ones in awhile. They had tended to happen early on with Henry. But for the most part, hugs, kisses and sunlight were more Betty Suarez-like dreams. Until last night.

She didn't remember what she was wearing, but she had been standing outside Gio's deli, waiting to go in. When she finally got up the gumption to go inside they had chatted like long lost friends, sharing their travel stories. They had fallen into an easy rhythm – the rhythm that they had had before the first kiss and before the revelations.

Until the dream kiss.

See the thing was – she started this one. Gio had literally been in the middle of talking about the Vatican, not exactly the hottest subject, and she had reached over and just laid one on him. Right as he was drying his hands on a towel. Maybe it was the fact that his arms looked strong as they were busy washing dishes. Or the fact that he looked cute in an apron. Or the dimple. Whatever. She didn't know why she had kissed him.

But she knew that she did.

And it was wonderful. It started out as a "gee, good to see you, what have you been up to" welcome kiss. But as Gio got over his shock, and she got over her shyness, it unraveled into a "hello lover" kiss.

And she hadn't minded.

She vaguely remembered being shoved up against the counter in the back next to the sink. At one point he took off her glasses for easier access. They were a bit awkward squished up against her face, and Gio would keep knocking into them as he changed positions. His hands went from clutching her arms to being in her hair. She quit wondering if she had food stuck in her braces.

She just…was.

She remembered that his tongue tasted good. And that they started breathing heavy. And that she could feel his legs up against hers. And when his hands drifted down to cradle her butt, and she felt her breasts start to ache for his touch, that's when her eyes snapped open.

She woke up turned on. The stomach rolling anxiety followed after that.

Which all led to the demonic pickle. Gio's pickle.

She was hungry, and she was getting lunch a little on the late side. Plus she needed Gio's help on a project she was working on.

'Get a life Suarez. Open the damn door.' It was almost like she could hear his voice speaking to her.

So she opened the damn door.

The deli looked very similar to what it looked like a few weeks ago, though there were some small changes. She noted the fact that there were some new signs. And that he had an Italian flag stuck next to whatever girls of the month calendar he had hanging near the backroom entryway. She hoped to God the calendar wasn't from that strip club he mentioned once.

And Gio himself? He didn't look all that different from when he left. A little refreshed maybe, but all in all the same except for his hair. It had grown out a bit – indicating he probably hadn't had time for a cut in Italy, or since he'd returned.

"Hey – oh, she's finally returned! Ladies and gentleman, meet 'The Eater'"! Okay, so his voice hadn't changed much either.

The two customers that were in the shop turned around and regarded Betty inquisitively. She sheepishly smiled and waved hello at Gio, nervously fingering the hem of her sweater vest.

"She's an eater? Gio, honey, tell me you like a few more curves on a woman." A woman who easily towered over Gio by a few inches and had a few pounds on Betty leaned across the counter, giving Gio an ample view of her assets.

"Sam, you know you're my favorite customer, but I gotta talk to Betty. Here's your change, I'm gonna flip the sign behind you and Frank."

Sam chuckled, gathering her change and the two sandwiches, theoretically for her and the guy who must be Frank. "Toodles!" Slipping her arm through Frank's, Sam sauntered out of the store. As promised, Gio closed and locked the door behind the couple, flipping his sign over to "closed."

"Is there a reason trampy blonds flock to you?" Betty plopped herself on one of the stools next to the front counter.

"Must be my natural charm."

"I'd say more like natural skank radar."

"You wound me B." Gio walked over to join her, pulling up another chair and sitting down to face her.

"Where's your staff?"

"Out making deliveries."

They fell into a period of silence, just taking in the company. Both noting each other's shit-eating grins.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I tried to come later in the day so that I wouldn't bother you during rush hour." Betty had chosen two p.m. thinking that Gio would be entering into more of a dead period, though she knew in Manhattan those times were few and far between. People demanded food at all hours of the day here. So Gio closing his deli even for a small twenty minute period was a big deal.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you came by. I didn't know when I was going to see you." Gio reached out and lightly touched Betty's knee. She took solace in the fact that he seemed pleasantly surprised to see her.

"I told you I was going to share when I got back, so here I am! I have so much to tell you. The places I visited, the books I read, um…the fact that Anne Hathaway was several years Shakespeare's senior, and that she was most likely pregnant before they got married. The fact that they've built a moving walkway to see the crown jewels – do you know how many people must see those diamonds on any given day? Oh, and the British Museum! I got to see the Rosetta stone. The Rosetta stone!! It's the foundation of writing, the foundation of everything I want to do with my life!" Betty paused, noting that Gio seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, though she hadn't given him a chance to interject.

"So…I take it you went to England." He said dryly.

"I took Daniel's tickets and changed them a bit. It's so expensive to be there right now, and the fact that I got to fly for free and the hotels were free – I couldn't pass up that opportunity. Plus I wanted to go somewhere that inspired me from a literary standpoint. What's better than the birthplace of some of our most famous writers? It was of course still expensive, but I got to use the money I had saved for airfare and hotels for museums and coffee shops and pubs and…" She caught her breath and realized she was full-on monopolizing the conversation. "And I could probably talk about this for three hours and we don't have the time right now."

"I wish I did. It sounds like you had an adventure. Tell me you actually tried some of the beer at those pubs."

"I didn't get drunk."

"Defensive much? I just asked if you had tried some." Gio leaned forward and winked slowly – the eternal symbol of 'if you know what I mean'.

"I didn't!"

He laughed. "Sure you didn't. Me thinks you doth protest too much."

Betty leaned forward and whacked him a good one on the shoulder with her closed fist.

"Ow!" Gio rubbed his shoulder. "When did you get such hands of steel?" He paused, smiled, wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously and said, "Did your writing hand get lots of action?" He ended on a leer.

"I said it once, I'll say it again. Ew. And now I know you better."

They both chuckled, reminded of the days when Betty was just getting to know the sandwich man from the block.

As a comfortable silence fell Betty looked around the deli, finally reading the signs that she had seen earlier. "The Moroccan" and the "Margherita" were prominently displayed next to a list of more traditional sandwiches. Each of the new additions had wonderful sounding ingredients. The Moroccan had thinly sliced curried lamb with a yogurt dressing. Mozerella cheese and basil featured prominently in the description of the Margherita. The prices of these sandwiches were higher to match their more flavorful ingredients.

"I take it you found your muse."

Gio turned and looked at the same signs. "Italy was… Well, it was amazing."

Betty waited for him to continue, and when he didn't she turned and found him lost in thought. She thought he was speechless for a second, but then she realized he was patting his counter in almost a content manner.

She had thought he was confident about his five-year plan before she left. But looking at him now as he peered at his new sandwiches she realized what she had mistaken before for complete confidence was more like hope. And what she was seeing now was a man that had developed some ideas about where he was going.

"Are those examples of what you found over there?" Betty hated to interrupt his thoughts, but she was curious.

"Yeah. It was like I discovered food that I had never seen before. I mean, I know I can get these items here, but they were in combinations that I had never even considered!" Gio leaned forward excitedly. His all too familiar silver bracelet and ring flashed in front of her as he waved his arms excitedly to help tell his story.

"So you remember my idea for the extras bar, right?" Betty nodded in response. "What if I made it different? Everyone can have American toppings – why bother with those? But people don't really have the time to go find those exotic toppings – the toppings that make sandwiches extra special. So what if I switched it up? Gave people the chance to try different things they just wouldn't make at home? Who wants to go to Subway when you can try The Moroccan? Look, I've even added some different condiments to the condiment station." Gio pointed at the far counter next to the drink fridge.

"And people in Manhattan pay for this stuff! If it's good and natural, they'll buy it! I'm starting with Mediterranean flavors." He beamed like a proud papa.

Betty didn't know whether she should stand up and cheer, or just pat him on the head. She settled for: "Gio, that's awesome." And she meant it. So she poured every bit of pep and cheer into that awesome that she possibly could.

A rapping at the door interrupted their reverie. Both looked outside to spot a harried woman holding what looked to be a long list of sandwiches.

"Shit, I gotta run." Gio raised a finger at the woman and smiled, the universal symbol of "just one minute, I'll be right out."

"I totally forgot to mention why I came here!" Betty leapt off the stool, rushing her words together. "Claire asked me to write an article on food. Specifically, a restaurant review. And I thought, who better to help with that than you?"

Gio blinked. "You're working for Claire?"

"Long story. Daniel's with his son, Wilhemina continues to be the dictator to end all dictators, and I was out of a job." Betty gathered her breath. "Okay, maybe not that long."

Gio walked over to unlock the door for his increasingly annoyed looking customer. "Hi Linda, come on in."

"The guys at the construction site are asking for your sandwiches again! How quickly can we do this?" Linda shoved a list at Gio, a pleading expression on her face.

Gio scanned the list. "No problem, just a few minutes, let me get started." He looked back over at Betty who was still hovering near the door. "You. Come back tonight at eight. We'll download about our trips, and I'll teach you a thing or two about flavor."

"Yes! I knew you'd help me."

"I can't trust the girl who puts too many sun dried tomatoes on her sandwiches to go off and review restaurants without my help can I? That's like sending a nun out to understand bikinis."

"Gio…" She rolled her eyes as he turned around to wash his hands to prepare to make the sandwiches.

As he dried his hands on the very same towel she had seen in her dream, she had a sudden flashback to his slightly wet apron rubbing against her bare midriff.

She fled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Gio looked at his deli, satisfied with the results. It still looked liked a deli, but at least a special deli. It was unfortunately overly bright because sandwich shops didn't come with dimmers, but he thought that the Christmas lights he had dug out of the back were a nice touch. Gio's deli was always festive. During Valentine's Day he had created a special sandwich for two, and he had decorated the deli. Well, he had asked Nella to decorate the deli; Nella had been more than happy to make enough red and pink hearts to create wallpaper.

For tonight he had strung small white Christmas lights inside the deli and put a clean burgundy brocade tablecloth on the table he had dragged from the back of the store into the front. The tablecloth made the old table look halfway decent. He had also run over to the drug store a couple of blocks over and bought tea light candles and glass candle holders. Nothing overly expensive or pretty, but the overall effect was rather kitschy. He thought Betty would like it.

On the table was his piece de resistance. All the different flavor combinations that he could think of, and was prepared for, were on the table. First the basics: turkey slices, roast beef, eggplant and some chicken salad. Then the special stuff: artichokes, a special spinach dip, cranberries, aioli, a special mustard sauce he had created, a red curry sauce, a wine dip and a few more items. The goal was to create a flavor _experience_ so that Betty could savor the uniqueness in different types and textures of food. Italy had taught him to experiment a little more, and he wanted Betty to taste the different flavor combinations that she had probably never tasted with the Mexican inspired cuisine of her childhood.

He wished he could have gone home and changed so that he didn't smell like he'd been in the deli all day, but he had run out of time and it was too far. He didn't want to risk a subway failure that stranded him either. Just his luck to finally see Betty again and then end up spending the night with random strangers on the train. So he was stuck in the same blue jeans and grey shirt that he always wore, though without the apron. His clothes smelled like eau de deli, but he had no other alternative. Besides, Betty seemed to like the perfume of food.

On the counter was also his gift. He hadn't bothered wrapping it. He wasn't skilled in that area nor did he particularly care. What mattered more was that she liked it.

He had put out the last items of food a few minutes ago, not wanting anything to spoil. It was 7:55 and he felt like his heart was going to implode from sheer anticipation. He knew that she was going to be in the exact same outfit she was wearing earlier, and that she was going to be frazzled because she was going to be coming from work (like himself she wouldn't have bothered heading home and coming back). But that didn't stop him from waiting with baited breath. It had been a month of his life; he had spent a month away in a foreign country, yet the girl with thick hair and braces still had him on uncertain footing.

He needed to calm down.

He walked past the cash register to the back wall and cranked up the radio. He knew Betty would be punctual, so he had only a few minutes to let the stress go.

Singing along to Bon Jovi would do the trick – he was "Living On a Prayer" after all.

()

"Hilda – no." Betty threw her to do list onto her desk in exasperation as her sister chided her on the other end of the line.

"I'm telling you, no one invites you over after dark just to give you a lesson. This is a date." Hilda spoke from years of experience and many dates. Some good….some not so good. Those she chose to remember only when necessary.

"Hilda, he's just helping me out."

"Betty, you guys haven't really figured out what you are, and knowing you, you'll avoid the conversation. For example, have you told him about Henry?"

"I haven't really had the chance! I was with him for fifteen minutes today! What did you want me to do, tell him about Henry in between requesting tomatoes and pickles?" Betty picked up her jacket from the back of her chair with vehemence, spinning the chair around in her haste.

"No, of course not. But you better tell him tonight."

"I _know_ that. Look, I'm on my way-"

"Don't you dare leave without telling me what you're up to. Hold on." A slight scuffling and then a door closing could be heard on the other end of the line.

"You just took the phone into the bathroom didn't you?"

"I don't want Papi to hear! Ever since he found out you weren't a virgin whenever I bring up you and men in the same sentence he goes off in Spanish! He talks so fast sometimes I don't understand what he's saying. I think he thinks Gio and Henry corrupted you in some way, but right about then I get grossed out so I quit listening."

"Hilda!"

"What? Spill it, are you going to kiss him?"

"No!"

"Why not? It's not like you're together with Henry anymore, and Gio seems like a guy who would appreciate friends with benefits. Though you'd have to call it at some point. He doesn't seem the type of guy to let go easily."

"We're not friends with benefits!"

"I didn't say you were, I just asked if you were going to kiss him. It's been a month, didn't you miss him?"

Betty thought of all the moments during her trip when she was reminded of Gio. The moments had surprised her with their frequency. Somewhere in the last few months he had become a close friend who knew her hopes and dreams, and someone who could hear her most embarrassing moments.

"Yes, of course I missed him." Betty said quietly. "But I don't know if I'm ready to kiss him. Yet."

"Oooooo…there's a yet! I knew it! Don't you dare come home before ten."

"I have no idea what he has planned! He might literally give me something and take off. He's had a long day at work."

"I'm calling you at ten. Your butt better still be in that deli, or I'm telling Papi about the iron incident from when you were twelve."

"Bye!" Betty quickly snapped her cellphone shut and hit the down button for the elevator. She was ready to see what this night had in store.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Gio's first thought was that Betty looked nervous as she rapped on his door. His second was that she looked a little frightening bathed in the light from his neon sign. He supposed he could turn the neon lights off, but they added a subtle color to the interior that was less scary than being bathed in the light outside the deli.

He walked over and let Betty in, hoping that she liked the atmosphere he had created without her thinking it was too romantic for…whatever they were.

"Welcome back." His voice ended up coming out a little husky in line with his thoughts. Even now after a month he thought that it would be great if she could come around like this a few nights a week. He could cook for her, they would talk, they could enjoy one another's company, and then they'd head back home to his place. Ba da bing ba da boom.

Abruptly Gio realized he had completely missed whatever it was Betty had just said.

Sheepishly he said, "I'm sorry, I wasn't quite focused. Say again?"

She smiled at him. "Wool gathering much?"

"Dated phrase much?"

"I learned it from regency romance novels I read while on the road. It seemed fitting to read a couple of those. And the phrase is so great, did you know it comes from laborers who went to pick up wool from hedges where sheep had passed and pressed up against the hedges before them? And because the sheep didn't leave much wool behind it was considered a complete waste of time and therefore an activity that just sent your mind wandering?"

Gio just stared at her.

Betty grew anxious. "What? Do I have something on me?" She smoothed down her outfit and did a quick scan. Other than a small salad stain from lunch (the lunch that she had ended up picking up somewhere else since she never did get a sandwich from Gio's), she didn't see anything untoward. "What??"

"You are so weird sometimes. Cute, but weird." Gio smiled widely. "Do you have an encyclopedia that you refer to for bizarre facts?"

"You're the one who said not all sandwich guys are lunks."

"I did say that. But I don't know where the phrase wool gathering comes from, nor do I use it in everyday language. I think that went out of style about 150 years ago. And if you know exactly when it went out of style I think I'm going to have to come up with a new nickname for you."

"I'm in luck there. No knowledge, and thank God, no new nickname!"

Gio chuckled. "On that note, welcome to Casa Gio's!" He swept his arm around, showing off the lights, table and ambiance. Plus the gift he had placed next to Betty's plate.

"Gio, this looks fabulous! Wow! How did you have the time to do all of this?" Betty slowly twirled around, looking at all of the decorations in the small space.

"It really didn't take that long –"

"Look at all this food!"

"- and I was wondering why it was taking you so long to notice that."

"Oh my God, is this cured pastrami? And there's some yummy looking mustard right next to it. Oh, and a whole bottle of sun dried tomatoes!" She shoved her glasses up her nose in excitement, and in the process of trying to hunt down the aforementioned mustard she ended up knocking several bottles over.

Gio decided to rescue her before she caused more damage or ended up breaking everything he had prepared. Somehow he didn't doubt they had t-minus one minute to that if he didn't interfere.

"Okay B, grab the seat, we're going to get started."

They took their time. Gio took Betty on a tour of flavors, of combinations she hadn't imagined would work on a sandwich. Even the bread he had set out complimented the meats and sauces he had prepared. However, the best part was when she got to surprise him occasionally. She did know a thing or two about cooking, and though he was versed, he was still learning. So, she could surprise him with a combination that tended to be more spicy and salsa-ed than practiced and paired.

As they talked about their trips (he learned that she had her itinerary mapped out in a spreadsheet for the entire trip, she learned that he decided what he wanted to do every couple of days), the air around them sparkled. Neither took the time to recognize their easy camaraderie, instead just enjoying the conversation that had been a long time in coming. But while Gio was telling a funny story of how he managed to overcook pasta much to the chagrin of his visiting aunt, Betty started looking, really looking.

She took in the toothy smile as he was telling the story. The way he waved his hands to illustrate his embarrassment when he realized the pasta was overcooked. The way he confidently walked over to the counter to get more drinks when they had run out. He tended to saunter. They way conversation just didn't lull, except when they both felt like they wanted to savor the taste of something.

And that was when the Suarez Realization occurred. The one that would have Betty spinning several nights from now, and the one that was hinted at in a certain dream last night. This man was special. For all the gelled back hair, leather wristbands and beer, he was gentle, fun and smart. Betty was looking at someone multi-faceted whom she never would have expected to like only a short year ago.

She was growing up and becoming more of the woman she wanted to be – the woman who could look below the surface and see something lovable. Hence the reason she was drawn to Daniel. And Mrs. Meade.

The ringing of a cellphone interrupted Gio's story and Betty's mental analysis.

Gio waited a few seconds for Betty to pick up, and when she didn't asked, "Are you planning to answer that or just have it be background music to my story? I'm not quite sure the timing is right."

"I didn't want to interrupt you." Betty looked at the faceplate and sure enough – it was 10:10, and it was Hilda. She smiled – Hilda in true form. Coming through…though a little late. She hit the ignore button and said, "Just Hilda, I'll talk to her later."

"She's checking in on you?" Gio's eyebrows raised, he didn't think Hilda had any cause for concern.

"In a sense." Betty said mysteriously, then took a bite out of her roast beef, horseradish and cranberry mini sandwich.

"Are we being mysterious now?" Gio looked at Betty, catching a slight hint of something different, a slight awareness.

"She didn't leave me a voicemail though, that's odd."

"You avoided the question."

Betty's cellphone once again broke up the conversation and she looked down. Yup, Hilda. Okay, she wasn't going away. Betty flipped the face of the phone open.

"Yes, I'm still here, you can go to sleep now."

"It's only 10pm, what am I, Grandma Lupe?"

"Some people call that getting your beauty sleep."

"Those are people with no life."

Gio surreptitiously started picking up various plates, leaving Betty to her conversation.

"I'll be home later."

"Oooo…you're still there. If you don't come by and tell me what happened I'll hunt you down like I search out mustache hair."

"I promise."

"See you later." Betty could hear Hilda giggling as she hung up the phone. Shy her sister was not.

Betty tossed the phone in her bag, shaking her head at her sister's machinations to matchmake. As Hilda got older she became more like the other mother's in the neighborhood, though she would never admit it. Well, a hotter and funnier version of the other mother's, but a busybody no less.

"You okay there?" Gio made his way back to the table and brought the gift back – they had moved it earlier so that nothing would spill on it.

"Yeah, it was just Hilda being an older sister."

"Cut her some slack, she's good at it. I should know."

"Yeah, I know. Remember, I'm usually the responsible one."

"Yeah, but she gets you to take risks – she's good at the relationship stuff. I was the recipient of some of her advice months ago."

Betty looked inquiringly at him, hoping he would fill in that last statement, but she was to be mildly disappointed momentarily when he shoved something forward and said, "This is for you."

She looked down to see a notebook that looked full. The top section was a very nice black thick paper, quite textured to the touch – rough in some places.

"It's handmade paper, they make it in Venice." Gio noticed the way she ran her hands over the cover, it was almost like she was trying to feel the story inside. "Go on, open it."

The sheaf of paper that was contained within the two thicker pieces of black paper was hole punched and tied together with string on one end. Betty slowly opened the notebook, flipped through a few pages, and then gasped.

"Gio, this is amazing!" She didn't look up, instead continuing to flip through pages and paw through the items he had stuck to certain pages.

"I know I'm not as good of a writer as you, but I figured you'd want to hear about adventures in Italy, and what better way than to read my travel journal? Then as I wrote I realized I could ask for doubles of some of the items I picked up. So I ended up pasting them into your travel book, just as I did my copy."

Gio had photocopied the pages from his travel journal with the most interesting doodles, writings and scribbles. He had taken these pages and strung them together into a notebook. But on various pages between the written and drawn on pages, he had glued tickets, napkins, pasta pieces, photos, postcards – all items that reminded him of Italy and what he had gone through. All in all it wasn't too long, but it was a "Gio" work of art, like the sandwiches he created.

"I can't wait to read it, I'm honored that you chose to share this with me." Betty closed the book's cover, knowing that if she started reading she would never want to stop until she was finished.

Gio's head ducked, and his sheepish smile emerged as he glanced back up at Betty. "Well, you did encourage me to start my five year plan, so I have to show you my progress. Almost like a report card. Do I pass?"

"You more than pass, and as a reward, you get to see what I brought you." Betty handed him a well-wrapped package (figures). Gio noticed that the blue wrapping had British flags scattered on it.

"It's not something edible is it? I hear the English have horrible taste in food." He shook the package, resorting to how he normally opened Christmas presents: slowly. For some reason he liked to torture himself with anticipation.

"I'm not giving you any hints. You have to do the work yourself." Betty crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to break into the package.

Gio took the ribbon and tape off slowly, hearing his heart beating in his chest. Somehow this gift exchange felt a little more personal than he was anticipating it to be. Again he glanced at Betty, noting that there was almost a new awareness in her eyes, and it made him nervous. There were more layers to her than he knew about.

"You have the patience of a saint! I unwrap presents faster than you do, and I recycle the paper!" Betty exasperatedly reached across the table to take the ribbon and tape from him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let me enjoy my gift please? Haven't you ever heard that savoring the moment makes everything so much better?" He winked at her as he pulled aside the final piece of paper.

Great minds apparently thought alike. Betty's gift to Gio was an older edition copy of Romeo and Juliet. Not too exorbitantly early – there was no way she could afford that – but old enough that he knew that she hadn't just picked it up at the local equivalent of Barnes and Noble.

"Look through the book…"

Gio followed instructions and flipped through the pages to see what she had done. Every several pages she had inserted pieces of paper with notes about the local food. Everything from the snacks she had from the street vendors, to her meals at night with the tour. Anything that was slightly new and different in her culinary world (example: different types of Indian curry) she had written about.

Betty cleared her throat. "I thought you'd get a kick out of hearing about English food, even if it's not edible."

"Betty, this is…so amazingly thoughtful. Thank you."

They gazed at one another across a table with food that had cooled twenty minutes ago, each noting that the other looked slightly goofy. For Betty it was the growing awareness that this man might be someone that she could truly be interested in. For Gio it was validation that this woman was someone he was interested in. Both just enjoyed the quiet moment for what it was – chemistry.

"So, now that you've shown me all your tricks, you want to come with me to review the place?" Betty broke the spell by standing and clearing more plates. "I have to work, so you can't totally distract me, but you can enjoy the food and tell me what you think. I have a sneaking suspicion that Mrs. Meade sent me on this assignment because she expected me to write a whimsical review rather than a terribly educated one. She's convinced Hot Flash readers want something new and different rather than the same old review they've seen forty times over."

"What restaurant are you reviewing?"

"You're never going to believe it."

"There are a million restaurants in New York City, what am I not going to believe?" Gio's arm brushed against Betty's as they worked to put the leftovers away, and he noticed that she didn't flinch away or look nervous for once. Which promptly made him nervous.

"The Pemberly Inn."

Gio came to a halt. "The same restaurant you sat at for an hour waiting for Henry?"

"The one and the same."

"Are you sure you want to go back? Doesn't it have bad memories?"

Betty's chin jutted forward resolutely as she used a sponge to clean off the table. "It's my job, I've gotta do it. Besides, it's my chance to turn a bad experience into a good one. And give that waiter who served me a pause when he finds out I'm reviewing the place. That'll be my version of delicious."

"Well, I guess I can't miss that. Revenge is a dish best served with a friend to help you remember the best, most catty moments."

"Okay, then. I'll meet you on Friday at six down here."

"You got it Suarez."

The rest of the evening quickly passed with the washing and drying of dishes and jokes about snooty waiters and how to get back at them. Gio was particularly inventive in that arena, making Betty scared of the day that he ever wanted to pull an April Fool's joke on her.

Gio drove her home in the van that seemed to have become a second home for them. The place where they could have eye-opening conversations. However, nothing was that deep tonight, just conversations about what was going on in the world, and about when Betty's braces were supposed to come off (next year).

As Gio bid Betty goodbye in front of her fence he threw caution to the wind and reached over to take her hand. She looked quizzically at him with an expression that looked partially distracted and curious.

"Thanks for a great evening B." He squeezed her hand, letting it slowly fall away from his. Several strands of her hair flew up in the nighttime breeze, tangling around her glasses and partially obscuring her eyes from his.

Then she surprised him by taking one step forward and brushing her lips dangerously close to his. It was just a brush, but it made him flush from head to toes. His hand of it's own volition reached out to touch her, but he forced it down, wanting to see what she said and did next. This new self-aware Betty startled him, and he loved her all the more for it. If he had been the one to challenge all the time in their relationship it would have become old, but it appeared that she had more surprises in store.

"Thanks Gio. I'm going to stop being sappy now and just say bring your a-game on Friday, okay?"

"Rossi and Suarez will make a good team."

"Suarez and Rossi. And yeah, I think we do."

Betty's lips still tingled from the slight kiss, and she thought seriously about leaning in for another one, this time with full lip contact. The exploratory phase was currently pointing to all signs go. They had kissed before. Plus she had a dream to fulfill didn't she?

Instead she ended up blurting, "Henry is just a friend now. I mean, I didn't go with him, to get married that is."

Betty winced at the suddenness of her comments, realizing that they had cut through the night air and landed with a thud at Gio's feet.

But he didn't seem to mind. His answer was a simple, "Okay." (What Betty didn't know was that Gio's insides had frozen up at the word Henry, and then relaxed at the words "friend" and "didn't go with him".)

And so Betty was glad that she had decided to wait. She wanted to give the exploratory phase just the right amount of time, and she was teetering on it being over.

As Betty and Gio both headed to their respective homes they looked forward to another night, and days full of sneaking away to read their respective new books.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

As Gio looked at their mint green house he couldn't help but wonder what Hilda thought of this whole arrangement. It had been months since their conversation last year, but he knew that if he asked her she'd be frustrated with how slow he and Betty were going. Hilda was not one to wait for life to show up at her doorstep. Then again, he wouldn't say he was patient either, but these last few months had proven that he could wait for the right person. Well, until he got a little antsy at the end. Why waste time? But Betty was like a deer hidden in the trees, he was approaching at a slow pace so that the deer wouldn't run away in terror.

He didn't want to think he instilled terror in anyone, but he supposed Betty was gun shy after the whole Henry incident. He couldn't blame her, it wasn't every day in life your first love gets another girl pregnant and has to move to Tucson.

Tucson. Shudder. Brown for miles, cacti and a distinct lack of Italian food. He preferred his neighborhood any day of the week. Tucson may never have an outlet of Gio's Sandwich Depot.

He had closed early today, wanting to get home and change. He knew this technically wasn't a date, but it sure felt like a date, so he had made an effort. Black slacks that were lined and a black button-down shirt. It was too warm for his normal black leather jacket. He felt a little Goth, but his buzz cut hair and clean shaven face didn't give that vibe. He also hoped he didn't look overly pretentious, but that should fit in at the Pemberly Inn anyway. He had stood like a girl in front of his closet for a good ten minutes, wondering what the hell you wore to a non-date where you wanted to impress a girl like it was a date-date. He had skipped cologne, he was too nervous, and sweating with copious amounts of cologne on just made him feel like a stink bomb.

He supposed if he was to be dating a woman who worked at a fashion-type magazine he would need to step it up a little.

He supposed he shouldn't get ahead of himself.

He squeezed his fists a couple of times and gave his testosterone a much needed boost. Actually, he felt pretty good, all things considering.

He rang the doorbell, holding his breath, wondering what Betty had chosen to wear. He normally would have brought flowers, but as this wasn't technically a date, he went without. No freaking out the deer.

His mission was simple, let the girl have fun and discover what a date with Giovanni Rossi could be.

"No, you're not coming to the door!" He heard Hilda yell as she walked up to the door. "I don't care if you're ready! Do you remember nothing I've taught you?" The door slid open. "Hi, Gio." A blazing smile accompanied the hello. Along with a body-hugging tank-top, capri jeans, heels and sliver hoops that had Hilda written in them. Saucy as usual, and oh so tempting. He hoped Coach Diaz knew what he was getting into. A relationship with Hilda would be exciting – lots of highs and lows. For some men that would keep things interesting. He had thought he was one of those men, but now he realized he wanted a shelter from the storm when he came home, and though Hilda had an incredible heart, the two of them together probably would have meant fights that could have been heard for miles. Betty was a slow burn, which meant he could diffuse the burn before it got too explosive. And she knew how to take him down a few notches with carefully placed comments rather than yelling.

A sudden image of make-up sex flashed through his head and he tried not to cough on his own saliva. He ended up clearing his throat and sounding like a complete retard that was coming to pick up his teenage date.

"You okay there?" Hilda laughed at the clearly nervous Gio who tried to recover by lightly coughing into his hand.

"I'm just here for Betty."

"Huh." Hilda took her time, leaning against the door and surveying Gio's outfit. However, whatever comment she would have made got trumped by: "You pass, but don't you know that having too many matching blacks is a bad thing? And that outfit would have been much better with a belt. I bet you 10 that your shirt is going to be untucked by the time the entrée rolls in." Justin popped up at his mother's side, coming from the direction of the stairs.

"Justin!"

"I have to help them Mom, they're hopeless." Hilda whacked the back of her son's head, causing him to rub his head in slight pain. "Hey, that actually hurt!"

"It was supposed to."

Gio grinned, thinking their relationship was awfully similar to the one he had with Nella. He couldn't count the amount of noogies that they had traded. She was surprisingly good with her knuckles for someone that small. Must be the wiry muscles. "That's okay Hilda, I appreciate Justin's tips. We should all look so good. Next time I'll give it some consideration Justin, and I'll try not to untuck so early. How's that?"

"Try not to untuck period. You've got a waist, keep it defined." Justin leaned forward and made a couple of adjustments to how Gio's shirt was tucked in. When Justin was done Gio looked down and realized he looked a little less schleppy. But he couldn't have told you on his life exactly what Justin did.

"This stuff is definitely for you kid."

"Eh, I was born into it." And with a flounce Justin retreated into the living room.

"Come on in Gio, I'll grab Betty." Hilda opened the door wider and ushered Gio into the house. He waited in the living room, watching Justin read. He didn't want to sit down and get too comfy. Plus getting up off a plush couch to say hello to your date could look treacherously dorky. So he waited, keeping his hands in his pockets. He fleetingly wondered where Ignacio was. Then he heard some tactful banging of pots and pans in the kitchen and realized the Elder Suarez was giving him some needed space.

When Betty finally walked into the living room with Hilda in tow she looked slightly frazzled, and he grinned inwardly after noticing some wrinkles on her dress – she had been ready way early. He hoped that meant that she was as nervous as he was.

But she was still beautiful. Her dress was a periwinkle colored wrap dress with long sleeves. It highlighted her chest beautifully, in fact, he thought it was the first time he had ever seen her in a vee-collared top. Usually she wore items that were less revealing. He sensed a little Hilda in this dress. But the hem still came to below her knee, and she wore her classic black tights and some low heels. None of that could take away though that the dress had a tie, a tie that just begged a man to undo it and unwrap whatever was inside. She wasn't trying to look sexy, but in her fresh-faced doe-eyed way she just was.

It was a big night. He was sure it was partially him, but she was also playing a role, she wanted to be a professional who went to this restaurant and wrote an amazing review.

Her voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hi, are you ready? Sorry for the Spanish Inquisition." Betty gestured with her handbag at the family members still lurking in the living room acting for all intent and purposes like they were watching one of their Mexican soap operas. He wondered if he should have brought popcorn.

Hilda recoiled like she had been slapped. "Are you taking that huge bag? What happened to the clutch I left for you?" She sounded honestly insulted. Gio chuckled at the fact that Betty was the one working at a fashion institution, yet the two of them were both being reviewed by the Suarez fashion board.

"Leopard print didn't really go with this outfit Hilda. Besides I need to carry all my equipment."

"Other than a pencil and paper what do you need?"

"For starters, my tape recorder to record my thoughts, then pen and paper in case the tape recorder fails. Batteries in case my power runs out to the recorder. A previous review for the restaurant that I don't want to sound like - "

"Forget it. Sorry I asked."

"I'm ready." His voice came out much huskier than expected, but at this point, whatever. He knew his emotions had been laid out to this room already, and he wasn't one to keep his cards close to the chest. He released his hands from the jail of his pockets and held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

And this time with a tentative smile, and not a groan, she put her hand in his.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"Are you laughing at me?" Betty fiddled with the volume controls on her recorder.

"No. I'm laughing at the other person who has checked that their tape recorder is working eight times. You know, the problem with using 'test, test, test' repeatedly as your recorder mantra is how are you going to know that the recorder hasn't given out after the first time you said those three words?"

That earned him a horrified stare. "Oh, God do you think that's the case? Hold on…"

He looked on in amused disbelief as she once again rewound the tape and hit record.

Then he had the tape recorder shoved in his face. "Okay, say something."

He remained silent.

The woman sitting on the seats right next to him leaned over and said, "Look, can you say something into that machine? I can't take listening to that tape be rewound one more time. Get a digital one lady!"

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm just trying to make sure this works. You see, I'm doing this restaurant review for our magazine, and I want to make sure –"

"Betty, I think she doesn't need to hear your life story."

"I know, but I don't want her to think I'm crazy."

"I think it's too late for that."

"It's the New York City subway, I think she's met crazier people than me."

"Can't disagree with that. Why did we take the train again? Cause I think there's someone doing crack up there." Gio had become used to driving his van everyday knowing there was a space for the car in the back of his deli for loading/unloading. He had become comfortable with his own space, though he had taken the train for years when going to school.

"It was easier than driving your car on a weekend night – just imagine the traffic in the city! We can just take a cab home."

"We could have taken a cab there."

"Why bother, this is cheaper and I could get organized."

"If I know you, you were organized last night."

"My batteries could have given out since then. My batteries!" Betty suddenly remembered that she had been taping this entire conversation. Gio let her rewind her tape in silence, knowing that she was more concerned about her equipment right now than anything else going on.

After a tense bit of static he heard the lady next to him and then his own dulcet tones.

"Look at that, it's working." Gio watched Betty visibly relax as she shut down her tape recorder and finally put it away. He got a tantalizing glimpse of the inside of her handbag that looked like it had been packed to the gills.

"I think we've got another twenty minutes to go, so why don't you relax?" Gio stretched his arm out and around the back of Betty's seat, leaning back and letting his legs rest near hers. She surprised him by letting her head fall back and touch the top of his arm, then turned her face towards his with a small smile.

"I just like to have my OCD moments. You're lucky I didn't bring my color coded chart of previous reviews."

"Are you serious?"

"I had to make sure I didn't use the same terminology – I don't want to be clichéd or a has been when it comes to this article. It's a leap of faith for Claire in me, and I don't want to let her down. Especially this time when I specifically asked Daniel if he meddled. He said no. So I earned this one."

"I can understand that." Gio moved a little closer to let Betty's head rest nearer his shoulder rather than his uncomfortable (and rapidly falling asleep) lower arm. She surprised him by letting her head listlessly stay where it naturally fell. The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence as the two were lulled into silence by the shaking train.

"Hi, I have a reservation for two at 8pm?" Betty winced as her voice emerged sounding way too tentative and like she was asking a question.

The hostess who looked like she ate at the restaurant once per week (making up her one meal of the week) perkily asked, "What's the last name?"

"Suarez. S-u-a-r-e-z."

"Here you are! Go ahead and come with me."

The emaciated waif walked Gio and Betty over to their table, this time inside versus where Betty had sat during her first visit. She and Gio both breathed a sigh of relief for different reasons – Betty not wanting to remember the bad feelings of that night, and Gio not wanting to have anything to do with Henry from that night.

Betty noted that the chair had a rounded back and realized that she wasn't going to be able to hang her handbag on the chair. She ended up shoving it as close to her feet as possible, but that didn't stop the hostess from slightly tripping on it as she laid the menus down and tried to leave the table.

"Sorry! There's no place to really put this thing…" Betty trailed off as the hostess beat a hasty retreat. She turned back to see Gio smiling broadly. "What?"

"Good to see that your trip and the new magazine hasn't stopped you from being you."

"It's better than the time I made bagels fly all over a Mode meeting."

"Are you kidding?"

"Sadly, no. It was before you knew me…"

"Tell me more. I want to hear about your biggest best klutzy moments."

"I don't know, dinner could last five hours."

"That's okay, food's good, company's good, what more can I ask for?" Gio opened his menu and perused his options.

"Let's order first and go from there."

A brief period of silence fell and a waiter came over to order their drinks. Betty had seen her previous waiter in another section and she hoped that he had gotten an eyeful of her there with a date.

With a date? Where had that thought come from? Her ears started to burn and she shoved her face further into her menu hoping that Gio wouldn't notice her red face.

She had to admit. He looked amazing, he smelled amazing, and when her head rested against his shoulder his body felt amazing. Sure, she had the nervous jitters, but what was most amazing about their evening was that hanging out together just felt right. She liked having him here, and their conversation had already ranged from current events to recent books they'd read. Gio had a surprising amount of depth, but with that said he wasn't an overly complicated guy. Was tonight really supposed to be this _easy_? Being with Henry had gotten her used to hijinks, she kept waiting for someone from Mode to leap out from behind a bush, or for someone to call her on her cellphone with an emergency. She wondered when her life had come to the point where she was convinced her nice dinners would be sabotaged in some fashion.

She decided to order a lovely sounding peach and tomato salad, Gio went for classic mixed greens, and she determinedly ordered the fondue appetizer (she was going to try that thing warm dammit). Then she tossed in her grilled fish entree, and she wasn't surprised when Gio ordered steak.

She took out her tape recorder to make some notes about the service and décor and noticed that Gio patiently waited for her to finish. In fact, he had asked to keep the menu for a bit just to survey their choices more deeply and learn more about the food.

She didn't notice when the waiter came back and was still recording some thoughts on small tables (and rounded back chairs). She missed the waiter's raised eyebrows at "…and why do some restaurants assume that you want to put your purse on the floor where other feet have trod before?"

She turned off her recorder with a snap and heard, "Don't worry, she has Tourette's. I encourage her to keep a tape recorder around so that she can record her blurts."

She narrowed her eyes at Gio and only got a chuckle in response. "Do you want me to even mention your neuroses? Like the fact that you put your Gio's Deli stickers on the exact same place on every single bag?"

"That's just branding. And I think the waiter has now retreated in fear."

The two of them dug into the fondue with aplomb. The cheesy creamy spread tasted fabulous with different pieces of bread and vegetables and Betty was happy that she hadn't been scared to order the dish again. It was worth it. Gio and Betty ended up playing with their food, with mock fondue stick battles and fake arm wrestling for the last of any item. Gio's laugh rung through the crowded restaurant and Betty's giggles infected her with a bubbly outlook on dinner.

The hours passed easily, in almost a rosy tinted hue. The Pemberly Inn did indeed have amazing food, and Betty and Gio took them up on what they had to offer, ordering dessert to end their meal, and to expand their time together.

Betty didn't even notice when she forgot to take out her tape recorder somewhere around the middle of the main course. Gio knew that she would remember the evening anyway, so didn't think he would remind her. Plus seeing her nose dive for the recorder in the middle of conversation unnerved him from time to time. Because the tape recorder had made repeat appearances the wait staff had figured out a review was going on, and the level of service delivered had ratcheted up to disgusting levels.

Somewhere two hours in, Betty's bladder finally couldn't take it anymore and she got up to go to the restroom. She met Gio on the way out.

"Couldn't wait for me to get back?" Betty grinned widely as she noticed Gio had untucked his pants.

"You got up exactly when I was going to get up, and I couldn't wait anymore." He noticed where Betty's gaze was straying. "Damn. You weren't supposed to see that. I was supposed to be in there before you spotted me. Under no circumstances are you to tell Justin I untucked." Gio sheepishly ran a hand through his hair.

Betty reached over and tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "I don't want the restaurant to think we ate and bailed."

Gio held his breath as Betty…didn't let go. She pulled the bottom of his shirt back and forth – which ended up airing out his rapidly warming torso. "The waiter noticed where we were going. I think we're okay. Plus you wouldn't be able to get far with that 20 pound piece of luggage you're carrying."

"My bag isn't that heavy!" She lifted it off her shoulder and handed it to him.

"I don't hold woman's handbags. That's 'hood code."

"Gio!" Betty went to hand him the bag but only ended up unbalancing herself as he took a step backward. She stumbled on the heels that she was unused to and ended up tumbling right into Gio.

He steadied her (and her purse) with his arms as she came to rest slightly up against him. Glasses askew she reached up to adjust them on her face when she heard Gio say, "screw it" and the next thing she knew his lips were plastered up against hers, knocking her head slightly back.

She dropped her bag in surprise, but noted that this kiss felt even better than the first one. Maybe because she was in the right mental space? Whatever it was, she returned this time as good as she got, and felt thrilled when Gio was the one to pull back first after a fleeting quick few seconds.

His lips glistened, and her eyes were wild. The both swallowed.

"Look-" Gio started.

"I want-" Betty started.

Both fell silent.

And for another time in her life, another instance that was occurring so frequently recently – she took the initiative.

"I want…" Betty took a step forward and ran her hand under Gio's untucked shirt, and just grazed his waist with her fingers where pant met skin.

Gio sucked in a breath, taken completely by surprise by Betty's actions. If anyone had asked him if she would ever had done this motion this evening he would have laughed in their faces.

But here she was, running her fingers along his waistline, and driving him absolutely nuts. His abs tightened, and he knew she could feel it.

He wanted to close his eyes to feel her fingers better, but he also didn't want to look away from her. He saw her mouth open and-

"Uh, excuse me?"

Her hand came rapidly back and both started as a voice came from behind Gio. A sheepish looking gentleman stood there, beckoning at the restroom door.

"Sorry!" Both Gio and Betty went to get out of the way at the exact same time, ending up in a bit of a three stooges routine as both collided with one another in the effort to move.

"Why don't I go back to my seat." Betty retreated with her handbag, face red as a beet, but as Gio watched, she went back to her chair and sat down instead of fleeing – progress!

Gio rapidly entered the restroom ahead of the waiting man, flinging the door closed, locking it and breathing deep. His nerve endings were jangling, and all signs were pointing to all systems go.

He couldn't wait to see how this evening was going to end.


End file.
